


Son of a Witch

by DragonsAreAwesome



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Gen, John is not as bad as in the show, mary was a witch, wizard!Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 16:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6617407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonsAreAwesome/pseuds/DragonsAreAwesome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine Mary Winchester was a witch and never got to tell her husband. Also imagine they live in the hp-universe.</p><p>Basically our beloved supernatural characters at Hogwarts. But you don't need knowledge about spn. Post-war, so Harry and his gang don't participate. There will be some big conflict, but later, later.  Also no pairings yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Son of a Witch

**Author's Note:**

> Just for the records: I lessened their age difference from four to two years. And I might kill people. Maybe. But later, it's a long way to go.

It was five pm when Neville Longbottom appeared out of thin air. The wizard blinked, because seconds ago he has been at Hogwarts and now he stood in the run-down suburbs of Skipton, a small town in central England. He walked through the thin snow, his robe swinging in the fresh breeze. It was not as cold as in Hogwarts though, up in the mountains and never to be found by the ones whose houses Neville was passing by.

The Wizard approached at his destination, a small house with a broken fence, a poor but dense roof and a sign almost impossible to read:

W NCH ST R

A little excited, because this was the first time he did this, Neville knocked at the door.

 

When Dean Winchester woke this morning, it wasn't a gentle waking. However you like to describe the process of your little brother slamming into you.

“Dean, Dean, guess what day it is!” Dean wondered how Sam had that much energy this early in the morning.

“Sammy, can't you be quiet? It's Saturday, I wanna sleep in.”

“It's quarter to nine.”

“Exactly. That's why you shut up now and I go back to sleep.” Dean attempted to pull his cushion over his head, but his younger brother snatched it away.

“Only when you guess what date it is!”

Dean groaned, tired of Sam's little game, until he realized the date. It was the twenty-forth of January 2009, his eleventh birthday. There was nothing keeping him in bed now.

After he had a quick cereal breakfast, Sam handed him a bad patched up .. something. It looked a bit like... a gift. Really? “You didn't have to -”, he started. “But I wanted to.”, Sam interrupted him.

Dean didn't bother long with the old newspaper his gift has wrapped into, he just ripped it open. In the packet was a necklace, a golden head of a long forgotten pagan-god attached to a simple string. It had it's eyes closed, a spiral on the forehead and two horns.

“The old man at the store said it had powers..”, Sam stated awkwardly while the older boy pulled the necklace over his head. “Thank you Sam, I love it.” Dean pulled his brother into a hug. “Happy birthday Dean.”

They spent most of the day outside, enjoying the snow fallen over night. For lunch, Dean cooked them spaghetti. The two of them had a serious pillow fight when their dad came home from work. Soon all three Winchesters were playing poker. Dean was winning again when there suddenly was a knock at the door.

Sam ran to open it, happy for a break from losing all his sweets to Dean. Even if it was his brother's birthday and they would share anyway.

When the boy opened the door, his eye caught the strangest man he had ever seen. He was about as tall as his father and wore a freakin' robe! Weird enough, there was also a wizard hat on his dark hair.

“Hello paw,“, the strange man said, “My name is Professor Longbottom. I'm looking for Dean Winchester.”

In this very moment, Sam's dad shouted from the living room: “Sam, whose there? If he tries to sell you something, tell him we don't need any of his stuff!”

Sam shouted back: “Here is a weird man. He's lookin' for Dean. Says he's a professor.”

The man in the robe – _Professor Longbottom_ -, Sam remembered, simply smiled at him and asked: “May I come in then?” Sam nodded, to busy with starring at his robe and hat to say another word.

 

 

Neville followed the kid with the shaggy hair into a small living room. The furniture seemed old and didn't match, but the room still looked comfortable. A man was raising from the armchair.

But the wizard's attention was drawn to the boy with a shit eating grin, counting muggle sweets on the sofa. He wore a dark green button down over a black shirt and worn of jeans.

Neville focused on the adult again when the man spoke with a gruff, unfriendly undertone: “Who the hell are you and what do you want?”

Neville decided to respond in a friendly tone: “I'm Professor Longbottom and I want to offer Dean a place at my school. He has the qualities that we're searching for.”

“So you think he's a freak and you wanna take him to the lonny's. That's not happenin'.” The man almost barked now. “Ain't ya a bit young for a professor anyway?” The older boy watched him carefully, ready to run every second.

The wizard ignored the other man's tone, because a coin had dropped in his mind. “So, you don't now? Your wife didn't tell you?”

“What has my dead wife to do with it?”

“Everything.”, Neville said, “Mary was a witch, what makes her sons wizards.” The statement left everyone in the room speechless. The older Wizard continued: “Every witch or wizard must learn to control their powers. My school, Hogwarts, is a school for magic.”

 

 

 _Magic_. The word echoed in Dean's mind, reached out to every single brain cell. The boy tried to comprehend it's meaning with every fibre of his being, but he refused to take the explanation, refused to hope for a solution of his differentness, a way out of the mess that was his life. It would have been to easy.

Dean almost missed when the weird man spoke again: “Dean and his brother have been listed for my school since they were born, it's their birthright.” John still looked at the visitor with disbelief, slowly reaching out for the cricked-bat Dean knew his father always kept close.

The stranger just smiled. “May I demonstrate?” Instead of waiting for an answer, the man took something out of the inside of his robe. It was a stick, not much longer than ten inches, the thick end a chiselled knot.  
One flick with the wrist and the dirt on the windows lessened more and more, another tiny movement and the empty dishes flew into the kitchen, doing themselves. Sam gasped loudly. Dean's jaw dropped. John's hand loosened it's grip around the cricked-bat.

“Guess that explains these weird accidents.” Expectable, John was the first to caught himself again. On the surface, at least. His face had turned into an unreadable mask, like his father's view on the world had been smashed and he wanted to rebuilt it without anyone's interference. This also excluded his own sons.

Dean avoided his own fuck-magic-is-real crisis by his usual method: “So magic is why nobody can cut Sammy's hair?” The man – the wizard – nodded while he tucked his stick away: “That would be an example for accidental magic. Most young wizards can't control their gift.”

His brother had giggled at Dean's words. The older boy loved hearing this rare sounds from Sam, the small sighs that he still had his childish innocence, was still his baby brother. Dean felt like this bright side of Sam vanished the more he was exposed to the darkness of reality. So when Sam rushed towards him now, Dean caught his brother and held him close, like he had done it when Sam was younger.

So Dean listened when the wizard sat down and talked about Hogwarts, willingly letting the man lull him into thinking everything would be okay. He had already accepted that he was a freak a long time ago, so why couldn't be magic the reason behind it? And there was a school for people like him, that meant... He wasn't alone. The realization hit Dean like a wall, igniting something in the boy that warmed his whole being. The feeling, the emotion seemed foreign to him but then Dean recognized hope, hope for the future.

His dad's next statement dimmed the hope which had soaked Dean: “We don't have the money.”

“That's not a problem.”, the wizard responded, “Hogwarts has the resources to support students who're new to our world.”

Our world. Dean was about to enter another world here, ready for him to explore. Filled with other people just like him. He felt the newfound hope pulsating through his veins. There would be no running and hiding necessary in this new world. He would be free.

“I think it's time Dean got his letter. We would have sent it by owl, but the headmistress guessed you won't be used to our ways. Turns out she was right.” The wizard produced a cream-colored letter, handing it to Dean. The boy took it slowly, but without hesitation. The skin on his arm prickled, like thousand needles were stuck into it.

Sam rearranged himself on the sofa so Dean could examine the letter. The paper was smoth and there was and address written on the outside with green ink:

Mr. D. Winchester  
The lower bed  
Skipton  
North Yorkshire

Dean opened the wrapping with his pocket knife and an equally cream paper was revealed. The young wizard emptied the envelope, there was a letter, a list and a ticket. He decided to read the letter out loud first:

 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

 

Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall  
_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Dumbledore Medal,_  
_Supreme Member of the Transformation-Society)_

 

Dear Mr. Winchester

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.  
Yours sincerely,

Filius Flitwick

Deputy Headmaster

 

The next sheet was the list:

 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear  
3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
4\. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)  
by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic  
by Bathilda Bagshot

Young Magic History  
by Elphias Doge

Magical Theory  
by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration  
by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi  
by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions  
by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them  
by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection  
by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand  
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
1 set glass or crystal phials  
1 telescope  
1 set brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS  
ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK

 

Dean tried not to be overwhelmed by this input of information. He read the whole letter again, silent this time. He may not understand every word (Dean had seriously no idea what a broomstick was), but he would do it. He had no idea how, but he'd get to it.

His little brother choose this moment to ask the questions Dean didn't wanna think about, at least not for now: “Where do you get this stuff?”

“At a place, hidden for non-magic eyes. But that's enough for today. I'll give you one week consideration, Dean. You don't have to worry about money. I see you next Saturday.”

And then he rose, walking away until he reached the empty street. The wizard vanished within the blink of an eye, the letter in Dean's hand the only proof he ever existed.

Still feeling the new, unfamiliar hope, the young wizard already knew the answer.

But later, in the dark, when Dean was just about to fall asleep, the boy remembered the ticket. A ticket meant, he had to leave behind Sammy. And his baby brother had always been his number one priority.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ops, that turned out darker than I intended. This story won't be that dark, not until later, when I start to kill people. Maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> If any of what they say is not British enough, please tell me. I always apprechiate review and constructive critism.


End file.
